Short Stories

Lost Proof

 It was a bright and sunny day. My mother told me to get up and get ready for school. She never meant to sound so harsh and demanding, I'd thought. But I should've expected that was the first sign. My mother was the sweetest woman I knew and she'd never growl or yell at her kids. She seemed off that day. My father was nowhere to be seen, probably already at work. If he was at work, then he wouldn't come home for a couple of days. Triple shifts he would work, making enough money so we could go to school. Then again, my sister didn't want to go to college and wanted to stay home and be an influencer online. She wasn't too bright and thought beauty was the only thing that mattered. If I tried to tell her that it wasn't, she'd kick me out of her room and slam her door in my face. She'd ignored me for a few days after that. I decided to leave her be and never talk about it ever again.

I guess you'd figure my surprise when I saw my sister downstairs working on homework and looking through a large college textbook. I was utterly shocked and when I sat down in the recliner, she looked over, perfectly sculpted brows furrowing. "Why aren't you studying?" She'd asked me. My surprise showed in my face as she asked another question, "What's got you worked up, Cynthia?"

Her weird behavior and her asking about what's got me upset? That wasn't my sister; I know my family. They are half caring, half hateful. You get one or the other. My mother was caring, while my father was cold and distant. My sister was the same, hateful and I was blessed with caring. I will tell you that my sister would never treat me nicely. It was either a ruse to make me trust her so she could prank me or something. Or that was an imposter who had much sinister plans. My mother had disappeared and I left the house, going to my best friend's house. I had texted her and she hadn't responded by the time I got there. Her house looked abandoned and I did not know what was going on until later.

It was about five minutes I knocked on her door, but neither Stacy's mother nor Stacy answered it. She was an only child and her mom is a widow. After waiting for about eight minutes, I did what I had to do. I threw a rock through the window and opened it. It was a small yellow house with only one floor and I looked everywhere. Stacy and her mom weren't there. Also it looked like no one had lived there in years! I swear, something terrible was going on. The air felt heavy and weird and I felt weird, out of place.

The only thing I could think of doing was calling the police, but there was nothing but static on the other end of the call! Have you ever called 911 and never heard another person say something back? Fear was the only thing I felt and that told me to run home. My phone was still on the static and I hung up. If there was no one answering the phone at the station, who was going to help me? The only people I saw that day were my mom and sister. They had to know what was going on.

What? You don't believe that I'd actually go back to ask my family what was happening? Yes, they were acting strange and they seemed to not be themselves, but who else was I to go to? My best friend was gone and the police were not answering! The run back home felt surreal as I looked around and saw the houses that I ignored on the way. They were rotting, falling apart, and looked much different than the ones I knew. The road was cracked and signs were bent. What had happened? I didn't think that was my town, but something much more terrifying. A place I did not know, but tried it's best to be like what I knew. But it was a decaying wasteland. I would never go back; it was a ghost town!

When I got home, my house was falling apart on the inside. Mold was on the walls and cracks were everywhere. It was just like Stacy's, but way worse and dirtier. One idea was to call out for my mom and sister, but the other idea was to get the hell out of there. But I went with the first idea and I immediately regretted it when I saw them. My mother and sister were there. But the only thing that looked like them was their sleeping faces. They had long, bony necks with matching long limbs and torsos. They were filthy and when I called for them, their eyes opened and they shrieked! It was an inhumane sound and it still haunts me in my nightmares. Their mouths opened wide and it was full of razor sharp teeth and black goo. They started running at me and I ran out, crying and screaming for help.